The Dark Lord's Secret Memories
by PyroMidnightAngel
Summary: Welcome to the twisted mind of Tom Marvolo Riddle. This is a story of how Tom became Voldemort. It depends on youself if you want to believe it, to believe in the truths I am about to reveal.


Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns H.P

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns H.P

On a worn page of parchment...

Of all the things I've done throughout my life, there is only one I cannot lie and say was regretful. Meeting her was the only thing in my life I did that was worth it. She was the only one who never judged me for my bloodline and trusted everything I said, a quality on its own that made me lose any chance I had of ever lying to her. No one treated me the same way she did, not in Hogwarts, not in the wizarding world, and most certainly not in the blasted orphanage I came from. She was my only true friend and, much later, my only love, and she knew me as deeply as I knew her, every secret and fear revealed to each other. Neither of us judged one another.

She was the only woman who stayed true to me.

Tom's Diary

_1st September, after dinner at the hall._

Today, I got onto the train to Hogwarts, a school that taught magic. I didn't really want to, but after Professor Dumbledore's demonstration, I didn't think I had a choice. Anyway, it was a relief to leave that orphanage and the orphans. I never really belonged there anyhow.

Many of the older students teased me about my bloodline as I got onto the train. I ignored them and went on to look for a carriage that I could sit alone and mope in. Unfortunately, because I'd ignored their taunts, the older students were mad and made sure I sat all the way to the end of the train, in a dusty carriage on my own.

When I'd finally settled down in the carriage after an unsuccessful attempt at cleaning the whole carriage out of dust and cobwebs, I sat by the window and glared at my reflection. A fine-boned face, pale and slightly sallow, glared coldly back, his dark brown eyes blazing. His lips were set in a scowl and a brown-black curl covered one eyes. I swatted mine away impatiently and continued to scowl.

_ "Stupefy!"_

My head cracked against the window and I collapsed onto the floor, stunned. Apparently, using magic was different from getting hit by it. Zephyr Malfoy dragged me up and punched me in the face. I felt my nose break and the pain finally registered in me, I started to move, readying myself to fight back, but then a wand stabbed my neck and I was warned not to move. Out of instinct, I froze.

They continued beating me up and I was in a painful daze when I noticed a dark-haired girl leaning by the open carriage door. Her arms were folded and her eyes growing darker and darker every second. Her face was cast in shadows, so I could barely see her features.

Finally, she stood up and took out her wand. The hood of her jacket fell off, revealing a mass of coppery red curls spilling over her shoulders, and a soft heart-shaped face made terrifying by her pair of blazing cerulean eyes. Nothing about her spoke of anger more than those eyes.

"Professor Dippet already told you that first years aren't your punching bags," She stated coldly. Zephyr Malfoy turned to glare at her as his mates took out their wands. "Take those wands out and I assure you that you won't have a nose by the time you hit the floor." They froze instantly at the acid in her voice.

"Cowards," Zephyr hissed angrily.

"Are you sure they're cowards, Malfoy?" She asked coolly, one red eyebrow arched. "Aren't the bullies themselves cowards to pick on the weak and prey on their fear? Don't even think about trying to curse me, Malfoy," she added. Zephyr grimaced.

"Who are you to lecture me?" He demanded.

"A first year, very much the same as that boy you're beating up there," she replied. "Marietta Zones." I saw Zephyr grin and frantically gestured at the girl with my eyes. She noticed, just as Zephyr pointed the wand at her.

She ducked and sent red sparks out the corridor. Soon enough, I heard footsteps echoing along the corridor and Zephyr cursed. He raised his wand and shouted.

_"Diffindo!"_

Narrator's POV

The girl rubbed her jaw as she pulled down the shield. Eight Prefects appeared, wands raised and relaxed as there was no one who was a threat around. One of them, probably their leader, a blond guy with a menacing cast to his eyes, pointed his wand at the girl.

"Who are you?" He asked. "What happened here?"

"Marietta Zones, first year," she replied. "The fifth years came to beat him up." She raised a thumb at the unconscious boy. "I heard it from the other students and came to see if I could help. Those older students will be put in detention, won't they? If I gave you their names, of course."

The prefect appeared startled. "What happened?"

The girl grimaced as she found a bruise on her shoulder. "Zephyr used Diffindo on me. This idiot tried to protect me from the spell." She pointed at the knocked-out boy.

Another prefect spoke up, this time a redhead. "How did you get that bruise?"

She grimaced again. 'He hit me as we dived off the seat. Apparently, he thought I was a damsel in distress." All the prefects started chortling. "...Erm, could you help me sort out this mess? I haven't exactly mastered Reparo yet."

Tom's Diary CONTINUED

By the time I woke up next, I was lying on the seat of a well-cleaned carriage and the girl, Marietta, was nibbling on some food, her eyes focused on the scenery. My head spun and my jaws ached, but nothing else was hurt. I got up cautiously and kept my eyes on the girl, afraid that she might suddenly pull out a wand and hit me with a spell. She caught me staring at her, rolled her eyes and threw a box of beans at me.

"I'm not going to kill you," she retorted. "Eat or you'll faint again." I took a handful of colored beans and ate them. A staggering combination of flavor exploded in my mouth and I choked. Someone thumped my back, helpfully, I guessed, and a soft giggle cut through the pain, emanating from behind my back. I looked up and saw a pair of cerulean eyes stare down at me, filled with amusement. "You're weird."

I'd been obsessed with Claire Marleys, who lived in the orphanage I grew up in. Along with many other boys, I fought for her attentions. She was pretty, without doubts, and had this tinkling little laugh that inflamed our heated little passions for her. However, this little flaming redhead was much more fascinating.

She was pale, like most girls, and her red curls set it off perfectly. However, her hair was unlike any I'd ever seen, a reddish hue that had never seen orange before, curled delicately around her soft, almost too vulnerable face. To call her an angel was simply wrong. She was too exquisite to be them.

"Who are you?" I asked.

She smiled again, dimples that were not quite there appearing. "Marietta. Call me Ari, for short."

"Tom," I said. "Tom Riddle." I didn't understand why I gave her my name even though she didn't seem to want to know it. Her smile went wider as she stuck out a hand.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she greeted. I stared at her, getting paranoid, but took her hand when I realized she was not at all disgusted by my bloodline. Or maybe she doesn't know.

Her next sentence, however, changed my mind.


End file.
